


One Step at a Time

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mentions of Abortion, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 15:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7178366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know we’re not in love with each other. But we could be. If you let us. If you gave us, this a chance.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step at a Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the HarryDracoMpreg Fest on Livejournal. Posting after Reveals:
> 
> Warning: Contains references to abortion and pregnancy termination. If this is a trigger, please proceed with caution.

 

 

**KEEP CALM AND WAKE UP NOW:**

the poster declared in brash, capital letters. Draco’s blurry vision focused on the headache-inducing scarlet of the print. Presumably, it was for motivational purposes but he still got the distinct impression that he was being yelled at.  
  
With a groan, he turned to survey the rest of the room. Details jumped at him in his sleep addled state— not enough to make an impression but just enough to confirm that he was not in fact, waking up at his own place in Diagon Alley. The windows thrown wide open to make the most of the morning sun, the buzz of Muggle traffic from outside, the faint scent of pancakes wafting pleasantly…  
  
It was the pancakes that did it.  
  
Draco sat up in bed, wide awake now.  
  
Harry’s place. This was Harry’s flat.  
  
“Salazar damn it all,” he groaned, swiping a hand over his face. Great. This was just great. He couldn’t believe he had stayed over.

Merlin, last night must have really done them in.  
  
Normally, his trysts with Harry followed a very specific pattern— one of Draco’s meticulous making.  
  
They would meet the group at the Leaky Cauldron for a few pints. Draco would arrive first with his mates from Slytherin. Blaise would buy the first round, Pansy and Theo would make eyes at each other while Draco rolled his and they would wait for the rest of the group. At some point, Lovegood would amble over to their table— Draco wasn’t sure when she had become a regular at their meet-ups but everyone seemed to like her and he would admit, if only to himself, that she was one of the nicest people he had ever met. Once they had all settled down and Lovegood was halfway through her third anecdote on Dapperblimp Sightings in South America, the Gryffindors would show up.  
  
Granger would usually hurtle in first, stuffing about a dozen folders into her bag and complaining about whatever Ministry mandated legislation had landed on her desk that morning. Finnigan and Thomas would arrive soon after. Finally, Weasley would amble in with Harry by his side.  
  
And thus, the Fellowship of the Leaky Cauldron was complete.  
  
After that, the night pretty much followed the same recipe: cheap whisky, good food, laughter and good times. Stories would be told, jokes would be made, more often than not, things would devolve into a drinking contest— proof that the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was still thriving. It was all very tame and safe and comfortable.  
  
Perhaps, that was why he and Harry had decided to push the boundaries of their newfound friendship.  
  
Draco sighed and got out of bed, noting the twinge in his arse with a small smirk. Well, complicated or not, at least his nights with Harry were always satisfying. It was too bad he couldn’t remember— he must have been pretty sloshed. Sloshed enough to sleep over at Harry’s place, as a matter of fact. Draco’s smirk faded and he pursed his lips.  
  
This couldn’t happen again.  
  
So far, their little arrangement had worked perfectly— but that was strictly dependent on the rules and the rules were crystal clear. This was a physical relationship, nothing more. No expectations, no feelings and _no_ sleeping over once the fun part was done with.

Honestly, he couldn’t believe _he_ was the one to break the rules. Harry had been amenable to their arrangement but he’d never been big on following rules. By all accounts, _he_ should have screwed up well before Draco.  
  
Grumbling to himself, Draco gathered his clothes and dressed himself, raked a hand through his hair and wondered whether to steal away like a thief or make his excuses, apologise to Harry and then leave.  
  
His dilemma was cut short when he spotted a note stuck on the bedside table.

  
_Hey sleepyhead,_  
_I made pancakes :)_  
_See you in 5._  
_— H_

Well. He couldn’t exactly leave now, could he?  
  
Draco sighed and buttoned up his shirt. His stomach felt queasy all of a sudden. He hoped the Firewhisky wouldn’t return for an unexpected encore.  
  
Merlin, how he hated hangovers.  
  
Perhaps Harry’s pancakes would fix him up. Hell, it’s not like he could feel any worse, right?

 

* * *

  
The sounds of childish giggles and clinking cutlery greeted Draco as he made his way to the kitchen. He frowned and slowed his footsteps, but it was a second too late.  
  
Harry turned around— alerted by his awkward shuffling. He was hard at work, flipping pancakes on the stove. When he caught sight of Draco, he smiled brightly.  
  
“Hey, you’re up.”  
  
Draco mumbled a half greeting and crept in cautiously. He had never seen Harry’s kitchen before. Most of the times, he just grabbed his clothes and made for the Floo. It was nice, as far as kitchens go. Roomy and bright, with a sunny wallpaper pattern running along the length of the wall. The table was set for two, he noticed. The crockery was mismatched and for some inexplicable reason, it brought back memories of breakfast at the Manor. Fine china and stemware, Mother humming to herself as she picked through her eggs and Father reading the Daily Prophet. They always ate in the Main Dining Room, and it was always an elegant, if somewhat silent affair.  
  
He wondered what Mother would think of Harry’s kitchen. He had a feeling she would have liked this too.  
  
“I’m up,” he replied. “Sorry I stayed over. Not sure how that happened.”  
  
Harry cocked his head, looking puzzled. “I don’t mind,” he offered with a genial smile and a shrug. “You know you’re always welcome here, Draco.”  
  
Draco shrugged. Be that as it may, they did have rules. Harry knew that as well as he did.  
  
Harry smiled again and turned back to the stove. “I hope you don’t mind. We have company.” He gestured carelessly at something behind them. Draco duly turned around.  
  
The little boy had fallen silent when he entered the kitchen. Draco remembered the giggling from earlier. Now the child was quiet as a mouse, sitting in a highchair, eyes wide and watching Draco with rapt fascination.  
  
Draco winced involuntarily. He had only come across his toddler cousin in passing, and each time Teddy had been shy, but friendly. As of now, however, he was studying Draco, wondering whether to make a move or not. Draco felt a flash of guilt. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming when it came to Teddy. He wasn’t good with children— not on his best day— and perhaps Teddy had finally picked up on it. For a two year old, he was rather perceptive.  
  
“Hey kid,” he offered anyway, because feigning ignorance was just rude. He was still in Harry’s house, after all. Upsetting his godson was uncalled for.  
  
“Cus’n,” Teddy mumbled. He blinked at Draco, then shoved a plastic spoon in his mouth. The mush he was eating spattered all over his front, causing Harry to groan in exasperation.  
  
“Teddy Bear,” he chided gently, approaching the child to wipe him clean. Draco stepped back as soon as he had the chance, pretending not to notice how Teddy beamed on spotting Harry. His mind was still half on the boy’s greeting.  
  
“When did he learn to say cousin?” he asked. What he meant was _who’s been telling him we’re related,_ but that question seemed rude too.  
  
“I don’t know,” Harry mused, deftly wiping Teddy up. “After the last time he met you, I guess? He’s been saying it a lot.” He turned to flash Draco another grin. “You made quite an impression on him, you know. He went blonde for two days.”  
  
The reminder of Teddy’s shape-shifting nature was unsettling. “You should take care of that,” Draco muttered, busying himself with flipping the pancakes while Harry was occupied. “No point in encouraging it.”  
  
There was a spell of silence and Draco turned around again. Harry was watching him, but there was disapproval in his eyes now and his lips were pursed. “You know,” he said slowly, “I don’t get why you’re so afraid of him. He’s not afraid of you.”  
  
Draco scoffed incredulously. “I’m not afraid of a two year old,” he retorted. “All I’m saying is…”  
  
That he didn’t know the first thing about kids— had never _wanted_ to know, as a matter of fact— and he didn’t know what to do or say around Teddy. That Teddy was young and frail and impressionable and those were things that Draco had no experience with. That there wasn’t a person in the world who wouldn’t agree that Draco Malfoy was best kept far, far away from anything small and vulnerable.  
  
Actually, when he thought about it that way, it did sound like he was afraid of Teddy. That just annoyed him even more, and suddenly, Draco wanted to leave more than ever. He’d got what he’d come for, hadn’t he? And Harry was obviously occupied.  
  
“I should go,” he said firmly. “I’ll see you at the pub this weekend, yeah?”  
  
Harry’s annoyance faded and he looked crestfallen now. “Draco, come on…”  
  
“You’re busy,” Draco insisted. “And anyway, I don’t feel so great. The hangover’s getting to me, I should go home and lie down.”  
Harry opened his mouth— probably to protest again— but then his brow furrowed. “Hangover? But you didn’t drink last night.”  
  
Draco stopped and stared at him. “I didn’t?”  
  
“Not a drop,” Harry confirmed. “You were tired, though. That’s why I suggested that you crash at mine. You were out like a light in ten minutes.”  
  
Really? That was odd. And if he hadn’t had anything to drink, why did he feel so off? The nausea was killing him and he felt oddly…unbalanced.  
  
Maybe he was sick. Or something.  
  
“You should see a Healer,” Harry added. He sounded concerned. “Maybe you’re coming down with something?”  
  
“Yeah,” Draco mumbled distractedly. “Maybe.”  
  
Something was wrong. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Draco said his goodbyes, promised Harry he would call him and left.  
  
He needed to figure this out.

 

* * *

  
“I’ve told you before,” Pansy repeated, and not as patiently as she had started out. “I’m not that kind of Healer. I specialise in Spell Damage. Were you hexed recently? No, you were not. Ergo, I can’t help.”  
  
“You’re really going to make me go to St. Mungo’s?” Draco whined. “Pansy, come on! Just do some tests or whatever. I just need a basic check-up.”  
  
Pansy gave him an exasperated look. “You can’t even give me an idea of what’s wrong with you!” she exclaimed. “All you have is a ‘feeling’.”  
  
Draco hunched his shoulders in embarrassment. Pansy was right. He couldn’t really pinpoint at anything specifically wrong with him. Perhaps, he was just overreacting. And yet, his instincts said otherwise. It may be just a feeling, but it was a damn strong one.  
  
“Just check me over,” he pleaded with her. “It will only take two minutes.”  
  
Pansy rolled her eyes, but pulled out her wand. Draco held still as she cast a series of diagnostic spells on him.  
  
“Nothing,” she reported after a moment or so.  
  
“Nothing?”  
  
“Not that I can see,” Pansy confirmed with a shrug. “Of course, you understand that I can only do so much, but as far as I can tell you’re in perfect health.”  
  
Merlin, that was a relief.  
  
“Thanks, Pansy,” Draco said as he got up. “That’s a load off my mind.”  
  
“Draco?” Pansy’s expression had turned speculative all of a sudden. “Have you…been spending a lot of time around Potter, by any chance?”  
  
Draco stared at her, stunned speechless. Why would she ask that? Did she know? How could she know? They’d been so careful!  
  
“I mean, have you been doing any spell-work together or brewing potions or something?” Pansy pressed.  
  
Draco saw a chance and took it. “Oh, that. We brewed a Hangover Potion together this morning,” he lied smoothly. “We really need to cut down on our nights at the bar, you know. Not as young as we used to be.”  
  
“Speak for yourself,” Pansy scoffed. “Well, at least that explains it.”  
  
Draco felt the prickle of anxiety creep up his spine. “Explain what?”  
  
“It’s nothing,” Pansy said, waving him off distractedly. “When I was checking you over, I sensed Potter’s magical signature. It’s quite common for two magical auras to overlap— especially when you’ve been casting or brewing together. Don’t worry, it should dissipate in a few hours.”  
  
Oh.  
  
Draco nodded and took his leave, trying not to feel too out of sorts.  
  
Still, his mind wandered back and forth, poking and prodding at the thoughts he couldn’t quite escape. He’d thought fast when he fibbed to Pansy. There had been no brewing or potion making of any kind whatsoever. Then why did he have Harry’s magical signature lingering over him?  
  
Draco swallowed against the dryness in his throat and changed directions. Suddenly, he needed a drink.

 

* * *

  
A visit to the Leaky Cauldron did nothing to quell his nerves.  
  
Draco’s mouth twisted as he surveyed the glass of Firewhisky that had been sitting there for ten whole minutes. When he had decided to come here, he’d wanted a drink more than anything. And now, he could barely stand to look at it, let alone drink it. It’s like his body was rebelling or something. His stomach roiled again and Draco gave up and Vanished the glass.  
  
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, glaring at a water ring on the table but when he looked up, he wasn’t alone any more.  
  
“Hello, Draco,” Luna greeted pleasantly.  
  
Draco barely kept himself from jumping violently. One of these days, he promised himself he would get used to Lovegood’s unnerving habit of just…being everywhere.  
  
“I’ve been here a while,” she said blithely, seemingly reading his thoughts. “But you looked so busy thinking that I didn’t want to interrupt.”  
  
“No, just scare ten years off my life instead,” Draco retorted dryly. Despite his brusque tone, he found his shoulders relaxing. Lovegood, for all her bizarre quirks, had a strangely serene presence— a calmness that he found himself envying. And Merlin help him, calm was exactly what he needed right now.  
  
“Draco, is something the matter?” she asked, tracing the water ring with her finger. Draco watched idly as she traced out a pretty flower pattern. “Your aura is all over the place.” She frowned and waved her fingers over his head, evidently trying to soothe his scattered ‘aura’. Oddly enough, the bizarre motions helped him relax. Draco wondered if there really was some truth to Lovegood’s nonsense, and dismissed the thought quickly.  
  
“I’m fine,” he replied instead. “Just…tired.”  
  
“Oh, alright.” Luna nodded placidly. "That’s understandable, I suppose. I’m told exhaustion is common at this stage.”  
  
Draco frowned and tried to follow her line of thought. “Yes, well, work is hard,” he shrugged. And his personal life was a mess, but he doubted he should say that out loud. His thing with Harry was nobody’s business but their own. That was a rule too.  
  
“You need to relax,” she said. “I’m certain the Apothecary will survive a few months without you. And the fumes can’t be good for the baby.”  
  
Draco froze.  
  
_Baby_.  
  
_She said baby._  
  
“Baby?” he echoed, his mind rebelling at the idea before it had even fully formed in his head. “What baby?”  
  
Luna blinked in surprise. “Your baby, of course,” she replied. “Yours and Harry’s.”  
  
Draco’s jaw dropped. Luna just smiled and blinked those giant blue eyes at him.  
  
She _knew?_  
  
“What…where did you…how do you know about _that?”_ he sputtered.  
  
“About you and Harry?” she repeated, tilting her head a bit. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was it supposed to be a secret?”  
  
If he wasn’t so busy gaping at her, he would have laughed hysterically.  
  
“How long have you known?” he demanded instead.  
  
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. At least as long as Hermione. But definitely not as long as Blaise.”  
  
_“Blaise_ knows?”  
  
Draco groaned and held his head in his hands. Well, that was it. If Blaise and his big mouth knew, then everyone knew. The man couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it.  
  
Luna clucked in sympathy and patted his shoulder. “You’re terrible at managing your stress levels,” she scolded lightly. “Think about the baby, Draco.”  
  
Draco bolted upright again. Now that he wasn’t busy processing the fact that everyone knew about his ‘secret’ fling with Potter, that one word hit him like a freight train.  
  
“Listen to me,” he said firmly, clearly and no, his voice was _not_ wavering. “You’re…not entirely wrong about me and…and Harry. But there’s no baby.”  
  
There wasn’t. There _couldn’t_ be.  
  
Luna frowned. “Of course there is,” she informed him, firmer this time. “Right there.” Her finger lifted to point at his stomach and if Draco didn’t know better, he would swear he felt a little flutter in that exact spot.  
  
And now, _now_ he was really freaking out.  
  
“That’s not possible,” he stuttered. “I’m not…we didn’t…”  
  
But they had. Several times. Times when they’d been too drunk or too caught up to cast the appropriate spells.  
  
And then there were the other things. The nausea even though he hadn’t been drinking. His sudden aversion to alcohol. His lack of balance.  
  
Harry’s magical signature.  
  
Draco gripped the table so hard he felt it creak in protest.  
  
Not two hours ago, Pansy had mentioned Harry’s magical signature overlapping with his.  
  
No. No, this couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be _happening to him._  
  
“Draco?”  
  
He raised his head and stared at her with wide, unseeing eyes. Luna remained calm and unruffled. She reached out and put a hand over his, then guided it gently to his stomach.  
  
“Do you see that?”  
  
Draco shook his head. He couldn’t see anything. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe it wasn’t there…  
  
“Right here,” she explained, waving a hand over him again. “Your aura is changing.” She pressed against his stomach again, a gentle push. “See? He’s already responding to…”  
  
It was the _he_ that did it, the implication that this was a real, living being inside him. Draco backed away and got up, almost pushing the chair back in his haste. “I don’t see anything,” he told her coldly. “There’s nothing _to see.”_  
  
Luna’s smile faded. “There is,” she insisted, softer but no less firm. “I can feel it, Draco. And you can too.”  
  
He wanted to deny it right off the bat. But the words wouldn’t come out. Draco’s hand shook as he pressed it to his stomach. When had it happened, he wondered dazedly. He’d been with Harry on and off for months now. How far along was he? It couldn’t be that long, he wasn’t showing and the symptoms were barely noticeable.  
  
It took him a moment to realise that his panicked denial had turned into acceptance, and if that wasn’t terrifying, Draco didn’t know what was.  
  
“I need to go,” he mumbled. He wasn’t even sure if he was talking to Luna anymore or himself. He didn’t care either.  
  
This…he needed to take care of this. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t too late to fix it.  
  
And…and if that meant terminating the…  
  
His mind recoiled at the thought instinctively, and Draco fought to keep the bile rising to his throat. The thought was horrible, terrifying in ways he could never have imagined. He couldn’t deal with it, not right now. If…if it came to that, he would find a way to be stronger, but first, he needed to know.  
  
Needed to know _for sure_.  
  
“You need to tell Harry.”  
  
His head jerked up. Luna met his eyes calmly, but there was an intensity there he had never seen before. She looked fierce as she stared him down. “It’s not just your baby,” she went on. “Harry should know.”  
  
Draco swallowed. He felt sick. How would Harry react to this? Would he be angry? Scared? Would he blame Draco for this?  
  
Maybe…maybe he would want Draco to get rid of it too. There was no way he could ever want this. Something in his chest wrenched painfully at the thought, and he shook the feeling off.  
  
He had to be strong. He needed to _take care_ _of this._  
  
“Don’t tell him,” he rasped. “Please just…”  
  
“I won’t,” Luna promised quietly. “But you should.”  
  
Draco left without another word.

 

* * *

  
He had broken another rule.  
  
For the first time in his life, he showed up at Harry’s place unannounced. Draco shuffled outside the door, half wondering if he should just leave while he still could. He hadn’t changed out of yesterday’s clothes and his eyes were bloodshot— the product of a sleepless night. The unyielding, unchanging result of the thousands of Testing Spells he had cast still flitted before his eyes.  
  
_Pregnant._  
  
_I’m pregnant._  
  
_Harry is the father._  
  
No matter how many times he went over it in his head, he still couldn’t accept it, couldn’t get used to it. He was on the verge of breaking down into hysterics, and the thought of Harry seeing him like this rankled what was left of his pride.  
  
But he had to do this.  
  
Luna was right.  
  
Even…even if this was the last thing Draco had expected— and the last thing Harry could want from him— he needed to know.  
  
He was the father.  
  
He bolstered up the shredded remains of his courage and knocked on the door.  
  
Harry opened it a moment later. The smile that had started to turn at his lips faded away as he took in Draco’s wrecked state.  
  
“What…”  
  
Draco pushed past him into the flat. Everything was the same as yesterday. The open windows and sunshine streaming through, Teddy’s happy babbling in the kitchen, even the smell of pancakes wafting through the house. Inexplicably, Draco’s throat clenched painfully.  
  
Everything was going to change. And he had never been more scared of anything in his life.  
  
“Draco?”  
  
Harry’s hand rested briefly on his shoulder, before tugging gently. Draco kept his eyes on the floor, not sure if he could stand to look into those soft, green eyes right now. How would Harry look at him when he found out? Would he be furious? Disgusted? What if he never wanted to see Draco again?  
  
Gentle fingers tipped his chin up. Harry stared at him, concern and alarm bleeding through his expression.  
  
“What’s the matter?” he demanded. His grip on Draco’s shoulder tightened a fraction. “What’s going on?”  
  
This was it.  
  
No turning back.  
  
“Can you…send Teddy to his room for a bit?” he asked quietly. “We need to talk.”

 

* * *

  
Harry was silent. Draco plucked uncomfortably at his shirt sleeves, trying to ignore the unnerving quiet that had suddenly filled the small house. The only sounds was the low buzz of the television and Teddy’s occasional giggle.  
  
“I…”  
  
Harry trailed off and shook his head. Got up to pace. When he turned to Draco, his expression could best be surmised as ‘shell-shocked’.  
  
“You’re pregnant,” Harry repeated, like he couldn’t quite believe it. “With my child.”  
  
Draco nodded and Harry started pacing again.  
  
“Does this…happen often?” he asked.  
  
Draco’s lips pursed. “I’m going to assume that’s a generic question about male pregnancy,” he growled. “Because if you’re asking me if I make a habit of getting knocked up the duff, I will hex your bollocks off.” He scowled and looked away. “Probably should have done that anyway, then I wouldn’t be in this mess.”  
  
“Of course it’s a generic question!” Harry yelped, looking fairly alarmed for his bollocks now. He swallowed and sat down again. “I just…it’s a lot to wrap my head around, Draco. I didn’t mean anything by it.”  
  
Draco’s shoulder’s sagged. “I know,” he replied dully. “I had a time of it myself.”  
  
Harry nodded and raked a hand through his hair. Draco found himself hoping that their child would be spared that unruly mop…and promptly pushed the thought away. Ever since he had found out, he had been making every effort not to think of it as a child— a living, breathing being inside him— and he was failing miserably. And Harry’s reaction— while not the hysterical mess Draco had expected— wasn’t particularly encouraging. Clearly, he wasn’t prepared for this. Neither of them were.  
  
Draco’s hands shook slightly and he clenched them into fists.  
  
“We…we need to talk about options,” he managed to say.  
  
Harry nodded slowly. “We do,” he agreed. “How…how do you want to go about this?”  
  
Draco bit his lip. Well, they should probably talk about scheduling an appointment with a Healer. He wasn’t sure if he should ask Harry to accompany him, this was hard enough without…  
  
“You know you’re welcome to move in here whenever you want,” Harry was saying. “I’m…I’m not saying you have to until you’re comfortable but it would make things easier, yeah?”  
  
Draco froze.  
  
“Or I could move in with you,” Harry continued. He turned to Draco and grasped his hand gently. And, Draco realised with a horrible sense of foreboding, that that determined glint in his eye looked a lot like hope. “Whatever you want, I’m here for you,” Harry promised, squeezing his fingers gently. “Just say the word, and I’m there.”  
  
Draco stared at him, speechless with shock.  
  
“You’re assuming we’re going to keep it,” he whispered.  
  
It wasn’t until Harry’s eyes widened and he drew his hand back like he’d been burned that Draco realised he’d spoken out loud.  
  
“What?” Harry barked. He sprang up from the sofa, eyes wide with shock. His shoulders went back and his voice rose until he was nearly shouting. “What do you mean I’m…of course we’re keeping it!”  
  
On instinct, Draco cast a Silencing Charm. Then he stood up as well, slowly but cautious enough to keep his distance. “Please, think about this,” he said softly, carefully. “Think about our situation and what you’re suggesting we do.”  
  
“What _can_ we do?” Harry demanded, looking agitated now. “We’ve already done…Draco, this has already happened. You’re pregnant with my baby. We can’t exactly undo it.”  
  
Draco’s pulse thudded rapidly and he had to choke his next words out. They tasted bitter on his tongue and he ignored the way his eyes prickled. “We can’t undo it. But we can…f-fix it.”  
  
Harry staggered back like he’d been slapped. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. His expression was nothing short of anguished. “No, no, no. You’re not…you _can’t_ be saying…”  
  
“Harry, please. It’s a simple procedure. It won’t even…”  
  
“Don’t!” Harry snarled. Despite himself, Draco drew back a little. Harry looked furious now, his fists clenched and eyes flashing. There was a sheen of tears there, a deep set grief that he could barely stand to look at. But more than anything, Harry looked angry…and dangerously protective of a child he hadn’t known about twenty minutes ago. “Don’t you _dare_ say it,” he whispered menacingly. “We’re not…that’s not going to happen. That’s my baby and you’re talking about it like…like it’s nothing!”  
  
It was that look of horror, that disgusted snarl that broke Draco. How dare he? How dare Potter act out like this? Like this was something Draco _wanted_ to do? The thought made him sick inside, but what choice did they have?  
  
“This is not my fault,” Draco snarled back at him. “Don’t you _dare_ act like I want this! I _never_ wanted this!”  
  
Harry’s fury melted away as quickly as it had appeared. “You can’t be thinking about this,” he whispered, sounding scared and desperate. “I know this isn’t what you planned— it’s not what I planned either but Draco, what you’re asking for is…is…”  
  
“Then what do you want, Potter?” Draco shouted, hating that his own voice was breaking. “You want me to raise it on my own? Put it up for adoption? You want…you want me to move in with you— never mind that you don’t love me— and raise this baby together? Because those are our options, Harry. And…and I can’t do any of it! Why can’t we just…why can’t we just do the simplest thing now and s-spare each other the misery? I…I can’t do this. I’m sorry but this is the only way. It is and if you would just consider…”  
  
“Stop. Please, just…just stop.”  
  
Silence fell, ringing in Draco’s ears after all the yelling. He sat down on the couch shakily, barely noticing when his hand drifted to his stomach. He felt numb inside. Cold and dead. He didn’t even register Harry approaching, kneeling beside him, cradling his face in gentle hands. Draco could barely look him in the eye.  
  
“Listen to me,” Harry whispered. “I can’t say I’m in love with you. What we had, what we’ve been doing…there were rules. There were always rules a-and I figured that one of those rules was _don’t fall in love with_ _each other._ So, I didn’t let myself. Because if I had…if I did…” He ducked his head and took a shuddering breath that was too much like a sob for Draco’s liking. But when he looked up again, Harry’s eyes were determined.  
  
“I know we’re not in love with each other,” he said. “But we could be. If you let us. If you gave us, _this_ a chance.” His hand rested on Draco’s stomach, and his fingers flexed like he never wanted to let go. “Please, Draco,” Harry begged him, one hand cradling his face and the other tracing his stomach reverently. “I know you’re scared, I see it every time you look at Teddy, every time you leave me before the sun is up. I know you’re afraid of being happy again but if you could just please, _please_ give this baby— our baby— a chance, I’ll do anything to make you happy. I will never let you be scared again. Just…please don’t throw this away before it can…before we can even…”  
  
Harry’s words trailed off into sobs, and then he was crying in earnest, his head in Draco’s lap, whispering _please_ over and over again. Draco’s vision blurred with tears, they stung his eyes and tracked down his face.  
  
“I can’t do it,” he managed through choked sobs. “I-I’m sorry, Harry. I just can’t. It’s too much and I…I just can’t.”  
  
Harry shook his head vehemently. “You want this baby,” he protested, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs. “I know you do. I _know_ you do.”  
  
That…was not relevant. What he wanted and what he had, had always been two different things. With great effort, he pushed Harry off. The devastation on his face wrenched at Draco’s heart but he had never claimed to be strong.  
  
“I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Harry, but this…I can’t do this.”  
  
There was nothing more to say. Harry wiped his eyes with trembling hands. Then he stood up and headed for the door.  
  
“Where are you going?” Draco demanded.  
  
“Out,” Harry replied. His voice was flat and emotionless. Dead. “I can’t be with you right now. Goodbye.”  
  
The door clicked shut and Harry was gone. Draco sagged and slid off the couch, tears tracking down his face as he finally let the weight on his shoulders defeat him.

 

* * *

  
He must have nodded off.  
  
When Draco came to, it was dark outside and someone was patting his head. He frowned and blinked the sleep away, trying to ignore his pounding headache.  
  
“Cus’n?”  
  
Draco’s vision focused on Teddy’s small, worried face. The toddler blinked at him, then continued his careful petting.  
  
“Teddy?”  
  
Draco felt instantly guilty. He had forgotten all about the small child during his breakdown. How much of the fight had Teddy heard? He must have been terrified hearing his godfather crying and his cousin screaming the place down…  
  
Then he remembered the Silencing Charm and some of his guilt eased.  
  
“Your godfather went for a walk,” he told the small boy. “He’ll be back soon, so don’t worry, yeah?”  
  
Teddy shrugged. “S’okay,” he mumbled. His large, brown eyes studied Draco. “Sad,” he announced decisively.  
  
Draco choked out a laugh and wiped his eyes discreetly. It wasn’t a very in-depth diagnosis but…‘sad’ was pretty much it. “A little,” he conceded fairly. “I’ll be okay though.”  
  
Teddy nodded like this was to be expected. Then, he toddled over and settled himself in Draco’s lap, wrapping two small arms around his middle. “S’okay, cus’n,” he mumbled. “It get better.”  
  
The warm weight against his chest and the scruff of hair tickling his chin was more soothing than Draco could have thought. His eyes welled up again, and he cursed his erratic emotional state. Damn hormones, that’s what it was…  
  
Whatever it was, comfort was what he desperately needed right now. To think that it was coming from a small, selfless boy whom he’d made every effort to ignore…Draco’s sense of shame flared and he couldn’t bring himself to move away. His arms wrapped around the small body in his arms, and he tried desperately not to think about…about another child he would have held someday.  
  
If he could have been braver. Stronger. Better.  
  
“You’re so good, Teddy,” he whispered into the boy’s hair. “So much better than I’ll ever be.”  
  
Teddy hugged him tighter. “You good too,” he mumbled. “Jus’ sad.”  
  
_Out of the mouths of babes,_ Draco thought with a choked laugh. Teddy would have been a good influence on their child. A great big brother.  
  
And he was crying again. Salazar damn it all, this had to stop.  
  
“Don’ cry,” Teddy implored, petting his hair again. “Why sad, cus’n?”  
  
“Because I’m scared,” Draco whispered. “I’m so scared, Teddy.”  
  
Scared for himself, for the baby who hadn’t even been born yet, for the baby who would never _be_ born, for Harry who would never recover from this, would never forgive him…  
  
“What do I do?”  
  
A small hand wrapped around his wrist. Teddy watched him, his eyes turning from brown to silver like it was nothing.  
  
“Be bwave,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.  
  
And Merlin, if that didn’t make Draco laugh, just a little. “Harry’s the brave one,” he said softly. “I was…never good at that part.”  
  
“S’okay,” Teddy told him, understanding as always. Draco held him just a little tighter, almost afraid to let them go.  
  
“Are you always this good with talking to people?” he asked. Holding Teddy close felt nice, soothing somehow. Like he could finally breathe again without it hurting. Teddy yawned in response and slumped against him. Draco sighed as his tense shoulders relaxed. He patted Teddy’s back gently and Summoned a blanket, draping it over both of them.  
  
It wasn’t okay, not really. Nothing would ever be the same again.  
  
But if a small child could find the courage to reach out to Draco, maybe he could do the same. Maybe the world wasn’t so terrifying after all.  
  
Just maybe…  
  
Draco’s eyes closed and he fell asleep with Teddy snuggled into his shoulder, and his mind at rest.

 

* * *

  
This time, when he came to, it was to Harry’s hand gently stroking his hair.  
  
Draco’s eyes fluttered open. Harry just looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot, and the gentle smile that always greeted him was gone. Harry’s mouth was tight, his face was pale. He looked like he'd spent the better part of the night crying.  
  
Draco’s heart clenched. “You’re back,” he said, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds. Teddy grumbled and snuggled deeper into his shoulder. Draco tightened his hold on him without even thinking. “He missed you,” he told Harry, for lack of anything else to say.  
  
“Did he hear…?”  
  
“Silencing Charm,” Draco said, hastening to put his worries to rest. “He’s fine. Which is more than I can say for the two of us.”  
  
Harry cracked a half smile at that, it disappeared almost instantly. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said.  
  
Draco froze, not sure why he felt so tense all of a sudden.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, apparently steeling himself. “I’ll come with you,” he said carefully. “When you…see the Healer.”  
  
Oh.  
  
“You shouldn’t have to do it alone,” Harry continued. “I…I need you to know that it’s killing me— every part of this— but I’ll be here. Whatever you need, I’ll always be here.”  
  
“Harry…”  
  
He faltered, not sure if he was brave enough to put his feelings in words. Harry didn’t seem to care. He shifted over and wrapped an arm around Draco, pulling him closer and taking care not to disturb Teddy. Soft, warm lips pressed against Draco’s forehead and, not at all surprisingly, he found himself welling up again.  
  
“It’s okay,” Harry murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”  
  
No, he wasn’t. Nothing would ever be okay. But at least he wasn’t alone. Harry was here. Despite everything, he was here— strong, reliable and willing to give Draco what he needed even if it was tearing him up inside. And Teddy was here— sweet, selfless little Teddy who thought he was good, just sad.  
  
The tears ran down his face and he hid in Harry’s shoulder. Harry held him carefully, shushing and soothing him as he broke down _again._  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Harry whispered thickly. “It was never your fault, Draco. I’m here, okay?”  
  
Harry held him through his breakdown and afterwards. Draco’s throat felt dry and parched and his head was pounding. But he felt safe…safer than he’d ever felt before.  
  
“Wannakeepit.”  
  
Harry froze and Draco bit his lip, half wishing he could take it back. Then Teddy turned and gripped the sleeve of his shirt in small fingers, and he felt just a little braver.  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
Harry’s voice was halting, unsure, like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Draco couldn’t blame him. But if… this was about what he wanted, and if Harry was willing to give him whatever he wanted, then maybe saying it out loud was the first step.  
  
_One step at a time,_ he told himself. _And maybe, just maybe I won’t cock it up._  
  
“Draco?” Harry was pulling him up now, his eyes wide and so hopeful. “Did you say…”  
  
“I… said I want to keep it.”  
  
There. Now he couldn’t take it back even if he wanted to.  
  
Harry’s grip tightened and his breath came out in a gasping shudder. “You…you want to…really?” The relief in his voice made Draco’s heart ache.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, because Harry deserved to know what he was getting into. “I’m still scared. I’m terrified of messing up. I don’t think this child stands a chance with me. But…you said you’d be here and I don’t have to be scared any more. And…and maybe if _you’re_ here, it…he might turn out alright.”  
  
“He?” Harry sounded awed as he brushed a hand against Draco’s stomach again. The touch was soothing to his frayed nerves and he found himself leaning into the gentle hold.  
  
“Mm hm,” Draco hummed noncommittally. “I think it’s a boy. Don’t you?”  
  
Harry didn’t answer with words. He huffed out a small laugh, and then his hand was shifting, gripping Draco by the nape and pulling him into a kiss. It was a gentle kiss, but the intensity made Draco’s nerves flare. Harry kissed him like he was afraid he’d disappear, like he was the most precious thing in the world.  
  
“Please don’t leave us,” Draco murmured, around the sudden lump in his throat. Merlin help him, if he started crying one more time…  
  
“I’m here,” Harry promised, his voice thick with tears. “I’ve got you. Both of you.”  
  
Harry let him go after what seemed like hours. There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes when he looked at Draco, kissed his forehead, cupped his cheek and pressed their foreheads together. “You’re going to be great, you know,” he said softly. “I know you don’t think so but…you don’t see what I see.” His eyes drifted to Teddy— still sleeping soundly in Draco’s arms— and his fingers pressed to Draco’s stomach and he smiled softly.  
  
Draco wanted to believe him. Maybe one day he would. For now though, he was content with just being here and letting Harry be brave for both of them.  
  
“A baby,” Harry murmured in his hair. “We’re going to be parents.”  
  
Draco nodded and curled his fingers into Harry’s shirt. It still scared him to hear it said out loud, but the fear was tinged with anticipation and what felt a lot like hope. “Just stay with me,” he mumbled into Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare leave me.”  
  
“Never,” Harry promised softly, pressing another kiss to his head.  
  
And there was something there, something in that soft kiss and those gentle touches that spoke to Draco of something more than affection and comfort. The words _I love you_ drifted between them— unsaid for the time being— but that was okay. He would get there. Eventually. And Harry wasn’t going anywhere either.  
  
Content with his lot in life, Draco shifted Teddy in his arms, curled into Harry’s shoulder and closed his eyes.  
  
_One step at a time._


End file.
